


Tore Out My Heart

by brokenpromisesandhope



Series: Quotes 'Verse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Breakup Fic, Closure, M/M, Not A Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Pining, Potentially triggering, Quote fic, Sad, sterek, stiles has a panic attack after a breakup with derek, this is not happy or fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1477534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenpromisesandhope/pseuds/brokenpromisesandhope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You don't get to do that. You broke up with me, you hurt me. You told me you didn't love me, and you don't get to try to comfort me over something you caused. You can't try to put me back together when you broke me Derek. That's not the way this works. You broke me Derek, and I have to fix myself. You don't get to come back when you left. I wanted you, I loved you, I still fucking love you and you didn't care. You don't care.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tore Out My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the quote:  
> "It tore my heart out of my chest, having to say goodbye to you." - Tumblr

It's his first date since _him _. He can't even say his name anymore. Think his name. That's how badly he fucked Stiles up. But he's not thinking about him. He's not. It's been nearly 7 months. 7 months since he left him, heart torn out of his chest and what felt like irreparable damage.__

__He'd quit going to pack meetings, stopped talking to Erica, Boyd and Isaac  because those seemed like his people. Scott still talked to him, of course he did. He was the closest thing Scott had to an alpha and Stiles couldn't ask him to give that up, but he wasn't going to be a part of it._ _

___He deserved this. He deserved a date with a cute guy who's advances he'd been dodging for months. Plus he was going to eat his body weight in expensive French bread and cheesecake._  
He clenches his fists, and wills his fingers to stop shaking as he buttons up his dark purple dress shirt. He'd had to dig it out of his closet, when he was with you know who he'd mostly worn red or his clothes. (He was actually quite naked a lot of the time too.)  
He hadn't worn red in forever. He'd practically gotten a whole new wardrobe. 

__Whatever no more thinking about Derek. Him. Derek. Well Derek was him, but what the hell ever.  
He finishes buttoning his shirt and smooth's it down with slightly sweaty hands and heads to the bathroom to style his hair. _ _

___When he arrives at the restaurant, Matt is already there, leaning against a pillar in a blue button down and black dress pants. He looks wonderful, stiles had to admit. He's basically Derek's total opposite, with long blonde hair that flops in his face, wide blue eyes and a constant smile on his face._  
Stiles checks his watch to make sure he isn't late.  
"You're not late." Matt says heading over to him. "Right on time."  
He greets stiles with a hug, arms squeezing his hips and a kiss to the top of his head.  
"Good to see you." Stiles says as they follow a hostess to a table. 

___They chat over bread and white wine. Matt is in his psychology class and he's going to major in Mental Health Studies. He's charming and funny, and he stares just a touch too long when Stiles licks the butter off his fingers._  
“So any particular reason you said yes, this time around?” Matt asks.  
Stiles presses his lips together, “I'm sorry, I just, went through a bad break up you know? And we, I think it really fucked me up to be honest. And you're really sweet, and I didn't want you to give up? And I think I'm finally getting over him and-” He chokes on an asparagus spear when he sees a familiar leather jacket and please no. Please god no. 

___Matt's hands flutter uselessly, and he leans across the table,_  
“Are you okay?”  
Stiles nods, coughing so hard his eyes water, until he swallows. He downs his cup of ice water and makes grabby hands at Matt's. Matt slides it to him, wide blue eyes laced with concern. He gulps the ice water, hands shaking, trying not to look. Even though he has to. He has to know. His eyes flick up toward the bar again, and there he is. 

__There is fucking Derek Hale, sitting at the bar, like he leaves his house more often than once a month. Stiles hasn't seen him in months and now here he is, in the same bar as Stiles, in a tight gray henley and drinking scotch._ _

__He's still shaking, eyes still watering though it may be for a different reason at this point. He can't breathe. He can't breathe with Matt's kind eyes on him, he knows Derek can hear his heart racing but he's ignoring him and that makes him panic even more. He hasn't seen Derek since he threw him away. Tossed him out like trash like they hadn't spent two years together. Two years and three months._ _

__He feels the panic bubbling up inside him, the itch burning his skin, lungs burning because he can't suck in a breath. He feels Matt by his side but he can't concentrate, can't answer the questions Matt's throwing at him, “What's wrong? What can I do? Stiles relax, relax.” His hand feels too light and clammy on his back and his shirt is sticking to him, hair flat and he's so hot and tight and the walls are closing in on him, and he just wants it to all stop. He can't breathe and it feels like he's trapped underwater, trying so hard not to open his mouth and let all that saltwater rush in, and he's hiccupping and crying and he's sure his nose are running and he can't fucking breathe. Why is no one helping him? Why isn't Derek helping him? He pulls on the collar of his shirt as if that will help, but the fabric slips through his slick fingers. Matt's still babbling and he thinks he sees a concerned waitress before his vision goes too blurry from tears. He wants to tell him to shut up, just shut the hell up because there are more pressing things like Stiles can't breathe and he feels like he's going to black out any second._ _

___He feels when everything changes. When there's hands tearing open his shirt, and firm warm hands on his back rubbing up and down, up and down. Derek's heavy head resting at the back of his neck, lips brushing his shoulder every once in awhile,_  
“He's having a panic attack you fucking idiot.” He mutters, keeping steady pressure on Stiles' back. “Breathe Stiles you need to breathe. Just close your eyes and focus on breathing in and out okay? That's all you have to do.”  
Stiles is fighting him, shaking his head, that's not going to help, Derek can't help, he doesn't get to help him. He can't he can't he can't. 

___Derek's enormous arms wrap around him, pull him down to the floor and seat him between Derek's legs, and Derek rocks him slightly._  
“Breathe, just breathe. In and out. You're okay. You're here. I've got you.”  
Stiles sucks breaths in quickly, chest heaving as he presses back against Derek's strong frame.  
“Slowly, breathe in slowly. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Slowly.”  
As much as he hates to admit it, it starts to work. He gets in a few breaths, as Derek pushes his hair off his sweaty forehead.  
“You're not drowning. You're here with me. You can breathe. Just relax sweetheart. Take deep breaths.”  
The knot in his chest is starting to loosen and his body goes pliant in Derek's lap as he focuses on breathing. 

__He doesn't know how long it takes but eventually he is breathing more regularly than he is choking and eventually it just stops. He can breathe. He can breathe perfectly fine, as if it were impossible for him to have ever been not breathing. But that's how panic attacks work. It comes on so quickly, makes you feel like you want to die and then it's over. With no trace of it left._ _

__Except of course there are traces. On his face, in his tears, snot and drool, and the entire restaurant is staring at him. Matt is still crouched in front of him staring, and Stiles tilts his messy face down into his lap to hide it. He hears Derek sigh behind him, and then there's a wet cloth wiping out his face and Stiles is mad. How dare Derek walk in here and think he can do this? He lost the chance to hold Stiles like this._ _

___Stiles doesn't think he can talk yet, so he pulls his body away from Derek and wipes his face himself. When he feels remotely clean, he moves to stand up but Derek pulls him down,_  
“No you're not ready. I want you to relax and then I'll take you home.”  
“No.” Stiles chokes out.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean no. You don't get to do that. You don't get to touch me or take care of me-”  
“You were having a panic attack and this idiot-”  
“Because of you!”  
Derek's face pales, and his beautiful green gray eyes go wide, “I-me?”  
“Yes you fucking idiot. If it wasn't for you here I would be having a perfectly fine dinner with this great guy, I'd probably be getting laid-”  
Derek growls and he reaches out to touch Stiles, and Stiles promptly slaps his hand away.  
“You don't get to do that. You broke up with me, you hurt me. You told me you didn't love me, and you don't get to try to comfort me over something you caused. You can't try to put me back together when you broke me Derek. That's not the way this works. You broke me Derek, and I have to fix myself. You don't get to come back when you left. I wanted you, I loved you, I still fucking love you and you didn't care. You don't care.”  
“I do care.” 

___“Then what do you want? What do you want me to do?”_  
“I want you to choose. Me or him.”  
“Derek you're not an option anymore. If you loved me, if you wanted me, you would fight for me. You would have approached me like a man and swallowed your pride but you didn't. There's no choice. Thank you for helping me but you need to leave.”  
Derek swallows and nods. 

___“Matt, is there anyway this night could be salvaged? Maybe with some alcohol and chick flicks?”_  
Matt's eyes are wide but he nods, “As long as you're okay.”  
“I'm fine honey, I'm just so embarrassed.”  
“Don't be embarrassed, you're absolutely fine. Let's just, get you up and to my car if you still,”  
Matt stares at where Derek is sitting on the floor, cross legged, and looking strangely innocent. Stiles purses his lips as Matt helps him up and he crosses his shirt closed so he doesn't feel so embarrassed. 

___“Derek.” He says quietly._  
Derek's head snaps up and Stiles thinks its almost pathetic, it's how he's felt for the past seven months so he doesn't feel bad,  
“Thank you.”  
Derek nods quickly, “Of course.”  
“And goodbye.”  
He reaches over where Derek is still seated on the floor, to grab his jacket out of the booth, and swings it on, watching Matt do the same. Matt still looks unsure, so Stiles grabs his hand.  
“Stiles.”  
Stiles looks back to Derek, just for a minute,  
“Goodbye Stiles.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm starting a series of one shots and they will all be based on a separate quote at the beginning, so in honor of that, have some angst.  
> I've never had a really bad panic attack, so some of this is made up or how I feel when I get really stressed. Please don't read if you're triggered by it.  
> This is different than anything I've written, so enjoy.  
> xx  
> T


End file.
